


Depression, too, is a type of Fire

by WeOffendedShadows



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Depression, F/M, intervention of a sorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-28 09:24:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeOffendedShadows/pseuds/WeOffendedShadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And maybe I’m an idiot for thinking I could have saved her—/call me her knight in shattered armor—/could have loved her more,/or told the truth about children./But depression, too, is a kind of fire./And I know nothing of either.  - Taylor Mali.<br/>Darcy isn't fine, no matter what she says. This is about people stepping up and helping her see that. No abuse or anything like that. Just the people around her helping her out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pepper

It didn't surprise her that Darcy was standing alone, watching everyone laugh and have what she could only assume was a great time. Pepper was in the same position, though at least she had Tony there, who was determined to bring her along, kicking and screaming, but smiling all the while.

Pepper was surprised that Tony noticed. In fact, she was surprised that he knew Darcy's name and what her actual role was in the building. Tony knew more about this girl then than he did Pepper at the start. She couldn't figure out why this girl was so important to Tony, at least, not until she started to pay attention like he did.

Watching Darcy led to the little party they were having, though Tony would simply say he wanted to get drunk with people, so he wouldn't feel like such an alcoholic, despite the the fact that he was one.

Around the kitchen counter stood the scientists, well, the thinkers as far as Pepper was concerned. Bruce was a theoretical thinker, while Tony had the tendency toward very practical thinking, with the newest addition to the tower, Jane Foster, being a blend of the two, focusing on outer space. The advances for Stark Industries would be well worth the hassle of pulling both Bruce and Jane away from the labs, as well as negotiating a professor interim position at a local college for Jane so she could still be part of her held dear publish-or-perish environment.

Clint and Natasha stood with Thor, laughing over something that Thor was attempting to explain concerning a weapon or event or something of sometime on Asgard. If she weren't focused elsewhere, she would be worried about the three, given the last time Thor left after spending time with Clint involved her having to explain the fantastic creatures he saw on the screen were animations and not real, despite his beliefs that they could be found on the island kingdom of Japan. That was a PR nightmare, and she had JARVIS childlock Clint's cable access.

On the couch, Tony was attempting to explain, again, to Steve why The Daily Show would continue to exist as long as possible, and its necessity within modern politics. If Pepper didn't have a more important job at the moment, she would rescue Steve. Again.

No, it had come to her attention, from Tony of all people, that Darcy was not well. Physically she was fine, as Pepper had looked up her last medical report(all part of joining the Stark Industries family), but mentally, the girl was drifting away from most people. An extensive background check, including finding out just what she did prior to joining up with Jane(Pepper was not aware that you could actually major in basket weaving, even if it was just a month stint), showed nothing abnormal. A healthy, albeit weird, family life, solid grades, almost a straight A student through high school and college, held numerous odd jobs, a few clubs here and there. Nothing that stood out and said abuse, hurt or even help. But as Pepper watched what Tony seemed to know instinctively, she was hurting and did need help.

She'd taken the drink of whatever Tony had poured her and walked over to Darcy. The girl was distracted, focused on Clint and attempting to hide behind her long sweater sleeves and a coffee mug of something steaming. Pepper paused in front of her; she had found Darcy to be sweet in the few times they had interacted previously, and while the lab assistant probably only knew her as the Woman who Tamed Tony(a moniker he proudly shared with everyone), she had learned it was more than necessary to deal with something that Tony wanted fixed. "Walk with me?" She asked, though the slight smile and look spoke clearly that it wasn't a question or option.

Darcy was smart. She just nodded, a slight hint of fear in her eyes, before giving one final look at Clint. Pepper turned and followed her gaze, catching Clint turning back to Natasha and Thor. Did she ask permission to leave? No, Darcy was too strong to depend on someone else, and with Clint, it probably went along the lines of asking if it was safe. She knew of the relationship, approved of it, just as much as Natasha and Jane did, though her opinion mattered less than her two friends.

They walked out the door, with Darcy still holding her steaming drink, though Pepper abandoned hers in the hopes of being able to speak clearly. She didn't speak and she was okay with that, because in a moment, the conversation would get rather awkward, something both were aware and dreading.

Pepper led her up to the penthouse, and stepped out onto the small deck that Tony crafted just for her, so she could feel the freedom in safety. Darcy followed, though stayed closer to the doors than Pepper did. She focused on the skyline, trying to think of where to start, what to start with, how to get a girl who she barely knew, to open up to her. "I was sixteen when I first felt... off," Pepper said.

"If this is a conversation about your sexuality," Darcy said, "I'm sure Tony would prefer to be here."

"Oh, he knows about that," Pepper replied, turning to look at Darcy. The blush was cute. "We've discussed it before, and are okay with it."

"TMI," Darcy said, though the smile was genuine if brief.

"No, I meant more like I wasn't okay, that things weren't okay," Pepper continued. "I wasn't sad, depressed or anything remotely close to that in fact, and I knew that I had no reason to feel the way I did, because my life was good. My parents were very supportive of me, encouraging and pushing where they should, a bit closer to me than most parents I guess, but I loved my relationship with them. I was doing well in school, I had some friends, or at least people I could talk to on some level that wasn't completely base. I wasn't happy, but I was okay for the most part. I was functioning and able to be part of the world, though I felt like something just wasn't right."

"How so?" A question that she had a tenuous grasp on the answer, though it wasn't fully correct.

"I wasn't suicidal, I want you to know that," Pepper said. "It's important that you know that. Suicide is extremely selfish and hurts more people than yourself, causes more problems than solves, and leaves more questions than answers. Suicide is never an option."

"I didn't mention..." Darcy said, though stopped, smart enough to realize that it would have come up eventually.

“I know you didn't, but it always comes up. It's better to tell you first off so you understand what it is that I dealt with, okay?”

“Then...” The girl needed to finish her sentences.

"I didn't care if I lived or died," Pepper finished. Darcy nodded. Good, she understood. "Depression isn't just sadness, at least, as much as Tony keeps telling me. He took me on with barely an interview, making me his first and only aid after he came out of hiding, when he took over the company. It was a blessing, and I knew it then, just wasn't sure how so."

"The rumors say-"

"Nothing more than what he wants them to. It's better for both him, to distance himself from people, and for me, so they don't get close. He was the one who forced me into counseling the first time he noticed."

"What?" Darcy asked. “Noticed what?"

“The distance between me and everyone.” Pepper turned away. “For me, it was because I was too smart. I'm not like Tony or Jane or Bruce, where science is where I thrive, but.... I majored in English. I love stories and ideas. I love to read, and think and talk, and well do a lot of things that an English major is required to do.”

“Like writing essays.”

“I love essays. Non-fiction is my favorite. I was really good at all of it, far beyond my classmates. Had a professor who wanted me to publish, if I ever figured out what I wanted.” Pepper smiled back at Darcy, and a slight one was returned. “Tony says I'm in my head a lot, thinking planning, adjusting, creating; its why I work so well with him. And despite how he acts sometimes, he was very clear that it was with him, even if I was just the aid slash secretary. But I don't really have friends. I had my job, I had Tony, and that's about it. He noticed it one late night, while I was sitting upstairs going through his paper work, and he was creating the first arc reactor.

“He was sweet about, though in his blunt manner. He sat down next to me, and then proceeded to tell me I was going to go see a friend of his and talk about this.”

“He just told you?” Darcy said. She stepped out on the balcony and sighed when teh the wind hit her. She still stood in the center, refusing to move closer to the edges, away from the view below.

Pepper nodded. “He talked about how intelligence was a burden, not a gift. How awareness isn't something to be proud of, because you are left wondering why other people don't notice it, don't see the way you do, can't really, and it hurts a little more when they continue to live up to the expectations you set, instead of attempting to rise abvoe above them.”

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I have a standing time with a doctor, Darcy, who I can see or talk to once a week, no matter where I am, if I want. Sometimes I don't go, other times, I schedule appointments a couple times a week, but I see someone. I talk about this.”

She was pulling away, crossing her arms in front of herself, turning in such a way to make distance without moving. “Does it help?”

“At first, no, not really,” Pepper said. “The drugs do some of it, taking the edge off. Tony helps because he will listen if I need to speak my mind, and actually follow my thought process. That helps. Nothing really takes away. It's a weight that settles on my chest and doesn't leave me alone. I just don't notice it as much. I'm better at a lot of things that kept me back. I'm willing to yell at Tony when he's being Stark, I'm much more confident in myself.”

“I can see that,” Darcy said. “I would not dare to wear that outfit.”

“I like the short shorts.” Pepper smiled. “There are other things that you would rock in, mainly a low cut dress, but that's neither here nor there.”

“Why are we talking?” Darcy asked. “We've never talked before.”

"Because I see myself, now that Tony showed me," Pepper said; she stepped after Darcy, lightly touching her shoulders to turn the girl back to her. "Because I see the same emptiness, the same apathy, the same distance that I had, have."

"Have?"

"It doesn't go away," Pepper said. "Like I said the drugs take the edge off, what with the jargon about dopamine and receptors and psychology, they help. Talking helps. Having someone helps. Everything else. But it doesn't change your thought processes, the self-loathing, the lack of identity, the-"

"Apathy." Darcy finished. The girl had tears in her eyes. Maybe Pepper did too, but that wasn't important. "Some days, it hurts so much, but I can't do anything about it. It's better to just continue on and do my job, do what I'm suppose to and think that it will go away. Clint is great and everything, he understands that I just want to be alone and with someone, often at the same time."

"Not caring is the hardest bit, and having something to care for, hurts even more. Tony took me on and made a purpose for me, making sure that I was working constantly, not trying to distract me, but-"

"Made sure you had the option until you were ready," Darcy said. "Jane was the same way. She's been great, and I haven't told-"

"She knows," Pepper said. "You're friends will know and not say anything until you're ready to deal with it."

"Why did you?"

"Because up until this conversation," Pepper smiled, "we weren't friends. This is the longest time we've spent together, right?" Darcy nodded. "But it won't be the last. Because out of everyone else, Tony and I won't judge."

"Tony knows?" Darcy said. "He's the one who noticed, how I barely interact with him?" Pepper shrugged, smiling at the thought that the Man who Tamed Pepper cared more than anyone else.

"Probably the same way he noticed that Thor had someone he cared for greatly and ensured that her career, despite and in spite of working for Stark Industries, would never flounder. Same way he got Betsy Betty in contact with Bruce again, and they have been covertly meeting for lunches and dinners the past month. Same way he ensured that Steve wasn't harassed while taking art courses at NYU, or Natasha could go to the dance studio if she wanted. He ensures that Clint still has a salary despite what he sends home to the orphanage that saved his life, and the circus that gave him it. Same way he does everything that truly matters to him: discreetly with little fanfare."

"The Iron Man," Darcy asked.

"A bit more open than he originally wanted, but it was out there, and he ran with it. It made the fact that he rebuilt that village from the ground up without anyone noticing that much easier."

"Wow. Tony Stark has a heart."

"The proof is on my desk." Pepper smiled.

"So what now," Darcy asked. "Are you going to force me into therapy or something, give me drugs-"

"Nothing," Pepper replied. "I just wanted you to know that you're not alone, that what you're feeling isn't normal, and there are somethings we can do to make it better. There are options."

"Okay," Darcy said. "Can I just-" she waved at the open air, a stiff fall breeze drifting around them. She wanted to spend time alone, thinking. Thought wasn't the best thing, but it was all she had. At least until now, Pepper hoped.

"Take you're time," Pepper said. "my door is always open. In fact, I'm going to fix something that I should have done a long time ago."

"Huh?"

"Nothing, the paperwork will be sent to you on Monday," Pepper said. She walked away. It wouldn't take much really. Just moving around some titles and funds, nothing she hadn't done before. "I'll send Clint up when I get back down."

"Kay," Darcy said, though her mind was elsewhere. Her arms wrapped around her again, and the mug now forgotten.

Depression, too, is like a fire, Pepper had read once. Unique and individual at each start and end. But there are similarities, and Darcy was strong enough to make it through some of it. She had friends, people who adored her and cared for her in every way possible. It would take some time, but at least she wasn't alone. No matter what she may feel, think or even know, she wasn't alone.


	2. Bruce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anger as soon as fed is dead - ‘Tis starving makes it fat. ~Emily Dickinson

Stark Tower was on fire.

Bruce had come to expect it, given Tony's tendency to ignore things like labels and warnings and convection. He had only stepped out for a ten minutes, which apparently was more than Tony could handle being alone. Pepper was off on some meeting and their assistant was off to bed by order of him and Tony. The Other Guy agreed that the young woman had spent too much time on her feet, a sentiment shown by a grunt and nod towards the door as far as Bruce was concerned. 

Standing in what looked like slippers and a thick winter jacket was Darcy Lewis, watching the firemen run around. She didn't look cold at all, and the smile on her face was as warm as the fire before them (Tony out did himself this time). 

Bruce knew of the assistant from her work in the laboratory with Jane and Tony. The woman did not work with him often, other than organizing some data when he wanted to take a break or brought him his tea the way he wanted it. She was nice, distant, but nice in a way that the Other Guy never realized was there. Betty was love and kindness and strength in one. It was why both Bruce and the Other Guy cared for her. Pepper was serene, calm, and direction; Jane insight, expansive, and thought. Natasha was fierce, flexible, and loyal. Darcy was all of these and none of them. 

The Other Guy realized it before Bruce did, who took the help of Tony talking one day when Jane was off with Thor and Darcy was hiding out in her room. And those two brought the wonder and sadness that was Darcy Lewis to his attention. Now both wanted to do something. 

He walked over to her, placed a smile on his face, and touched her shoulder. “So, Tony did something again, huh?” It was obvious, but they spent so little time together, small talk seemed best to start. The Other Guy growled his agreement. 

Darcy turned to him, a smile on her face, and the brightness returned that seemed so rare lately. She had a talk with Pepper, Tony said, and it went okay. 

“Yep, leaving me out in the cold,” she replied. “I had a bowl of ice cream and Netflix and I was set. But Stark had to play with his stupid toy without supervision. Again. And started a fire on floor fourteen. Again.”

“You warm enough?”

“I have shorts on if that's the point of the question.” The Other Guy sniffed inside, desire spiked, and Bruce held down the emotion. He was not interested in the assistant, despite the Other Guy's need to copulate with everything female, even if both of them didn’t see her that way. Bruce had twenty years on her. 

“I was wondering if you wanted to sit down and wait out the fire,” Bruce said. “If it is floor fourteen again, then we could be a while.” He reached out with a hand, not touching the small of her back, and started to move away from the group. “Come; there is a decent bistro still open this late, and I'm sure we both could use something warm.” 

They didn't speak, leaving Bruce alone with their thoughts. The Other Guy wanted to smash and break whatever made the sadness appear in the girl, then pick her up and hold her close until it was over. Bruce at least knew that nothing could take it away that anyone else could do. The most he could offer was his own personal demons, and how he dealt with them. Or didn't.

Bruce led her in; it was a vegan bistro he found one night wandering the streets, trying to hold down the anger he felt at something outside of the Tower, something he couldn't control. Betty was not to make a dinner. His technology was being used in aggressive manner for war and violence. The 49ers lost the Super Bowl. Tony made sure there were great options for him in the Tower, but at least here, he didn't have to deal with the stares and glares from people who didn't know him.

Amy, the punk-goth-hipster waitress, came over and smiled at Bruce after she gave a quick glance to Darcy. “I’m a regular,” he said, blushing. 

“They don't care about my order?” She asked. Amy returned with a tall glass of water, no ice, with a small cup of coffee for Darcy and a kettle of water for his tea. 

“More like they figured you were a terrible meat-eater and they'd probably give you the only thing that you could stomach on the menu. Sorry about that, by the way-”

Darcy waved him off. “I'm used to the vegan life-style, thanks to Clint.” Bruce nodded, filing the information away for later. He had never seen Clint eat like a vegan, though he didn't place that much attention into what anyone else ate. 

He poured his water, took out a little bag from his jacket. Bruce smiled as the Other Guy relaxed slightly. It was one of the few things to keep him down and calm during not aggressive situations. “I have my own blend; it helps with...” he just trailed off.

“Calm is good.” Darcy nodded at him. 

They said nothing, and Bruce wasn't okay with it. The Other Guy wanted to shout and scream and make things better or at least flatter, in order to fix whatever upset Darcy. Bruce wanted her to smile again, a real one, not a fake like she had worn most of the week. A smile was so much better than tears or, worse, a frown. 

“Twelve,” Bruce finally said. He didn't look at her. The Other Guy hated this line of thought, that Bruce was so weak and willing to give up. The anger at himself, at being so weak and unable to protect his mother, his sister, from HIM. 

“Twelve what?” Darcy asked.

“The first time was when I was twelve, oddly enough,” Bruce continued. If he was going to do this as calmly as possible and not destroy his favorite little eatery. “It was the fifth time that week, HE came home drunk. I was... well I was twelve. I couldn't stop him, and he just did as he wanted. I was so angry, so hurt. I just wanted that pain to stop.”

“Bruce,” Darcy said. 

“My sister, my eight year old sister of all people, found me, bleeding out. She fixed me up and made things better, at least for the moment. The rest of the times were similar.”

“Where is she now?” The Other Guy stretched his boundaries, and Bruce squeezed down on his tea cup. 

“Buried back in a little suburb outside of Phoenix, with my mother next to her,” Bruce replied. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breath. He ran through numbers, trying to confuse the Other Guy, but it wasn't working. The hatred against HIM, the anger that HE invoked, the fear that HE brought every thought. It wasn't healthy, he knew, but it was better, even now, with Bruce at least acknowledging the presence of the Other Guy even then.

There had been always anger issues, and it was better for him to separate them away from his conscious mind. He wasn't a psychologist, and up until the incident, he didn't feel the need for any soft science like it. Clamping down on his anger, closing it up and putting it in a place where he could never let it out. Violence begets violence, anger begets anger. His father was a violent, angry man, and it threatened to turn Bruce into the same thing. Well it did. The Other Guy was that violent angry man. Up until the accident, Bruce buried his anger and his violence deep within himself to prevent another man like HIM from existing. 

A hand reached out and covered his, and the moment took a breathe for him to realize that she was touching him, by her own choice. Darcy rarely touched people. Bruce had seen the background check on her, seen it on most of the people in the Tower. Whatever reason she had to avoid touching people, it wasn't abuse or anything similar. She just didn't touch people she wasn't comfortable with. The list was small: Clint, Natasha and Jane. Oddly, Tony was on that list sometimes, though Bruce had yet to figure out just how he moved on and off so quickly. 

The Other Guy wanted to rage, he really did, but the hand, soft, gentle and kind like Betsy's, calmed him down. Bruce wasn't in love with Darcy, thankfully. Clint would murder him if he was. No, Darcy had the same quality that Betsy possessed, a quality of so much peace and understanding and the sense of being lost. For once, anger was not the first emotion that the Other Guy felt. 

“Bruce?” Darcy said. “You in there.” He nodded.

He took a deep breath, and opened his eyes that he didn't even realize were closed. “The last time was three years ago, after I had to leave Betty again. The Other Guy made an appearance and spat out the bullet.”

“I don't-”

“We all have demons,” Bruce said. “We all have things we struggle with each and every day.”

“You have a reason though,” Darcy said, and Bruce shrugged. The Other Guy laughed. He heard a deep bass chuckle from somewhere, but let him have his laugh; it was better than constantly controlling him. 

“I have a reason for anger and hatred and rage, there is a difference. The cycle didn't end with me. It's just more refined and better shown.” Bruce smiled as the hipster-goth-waitress returned with two plates and placed them in front of the two companions. He smiled up, thanking her, before reaching for his napkin and covering his lap with it. “All the anger, the hatred, the violence that my father brought into my life, well, best thing I've heard is that I've suppressed it up until the accident. The Other Guy was just what happened when I finally let go.”

 

“No, the attempts I made on my own life, were just a by-product of all of that, Darcy,” Bruce said. “And the fact that you feel like you don't have a reason is just another demon.”

“Bruce-”

“Ms. Lewis,” Bruce said. “We normally don't talk outside of work, and even then it's limited to just what you need for Jane or Tony. I was content with that. I was content in being oblivious and just working. Tony, though, has a way of forcing you to be social. The Other Guy just wants the basic things in the world, some of which I will not repeat. Between the two, the status quo would not remain.

“I can tell you are unhappy, maybe even worse. I can tell that for the most part, you just go through the motions and do whatever you can to seem normal because it's the only way you deal with the crazy life we have in the tower, probably how you dealt with everything up until this point. You function, but you do not live. I can tell that you want to interact, that you like people, and enjoy watching all of us interact with each other, though you don't know how to. You keep yourself so far away, even when standing next to Jane.

“The Other Guy makes things a bit easier to see, because all of those worries and cares and issues that a regular person might have, they just disappear into the simpler things. I'd like to think he is just another part of me, but the way he thinks sometimes is so alien and right that it makes it difficult to accept somethings.” He sighed and placed his fork down before looking right at Darcy. “I can't begin to understand what you are going through, Ms. Lewis. Everyone experiences everything differently. The only thing I can tell you is that you have people who want to help you. People who want you around because you make their lives better. People who would do anything just to see you smile. Myself in that number now. I just don't want you to forget that.”

Darcy nodded. She continued to eat her meal, not tasting what was in front of her. Bruce figured he was done speaking for the day, if not the week. He had said a great deal and most of it he would regret in the morning. The Other Guy was happy with the outcome, if he could call it that. He was content that something had been said and that now they, both the Other Guy and Bruce, would do whatever it took to protect Darcy and keep her out of the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that took a lot longer than I wanted, and no fault of my betas, amazon-x and misssweetsweet. Just a lot of things going down and well, there is a reason why this is about depression with no real source. 
> 
> Enjoy and next chapter will hopefully be finished sometime this week.


	3. Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lie in the bedroom with the curtains drawn and nothingness washing over me like a sluggish wave. Whatever is happening to me is my own fault. I have done something wrong, something so huge I can't even see it, something that's drowning me. I am inadequate and stupid, without worth. I might as well be dead - Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye

Natasha found her sitting alone on their couch. She and Clint had brought it up to annoy Stark more than anything else, what with him constantly stating that they have everything a person could want for entertainment. They proved him wrong.

Solitude and silence, as much as one can get in a crowded, loud city, were something they cherished and each had their ways of finding it. The assassins would drift back to where they would be alone. Always watched, always with a voice in their ears, always around others who scrutinized every single move. They had their individual locations, known only to themselves(Nat knew where Clint liked to hide, but they never mentioned that fact), but they would always drift back together. 

Six months after the whole New York event, and Clint's rape, they met Darcy Lewis, and they weren’t alone since then. The sweet research assistant/coding god always found them when either assassin was feeling off. It wasn't depression, but there were issues and concepts that no one wished to speak about. The fact that both were a bit off kilter was the only reason why they noticed Darcy's issues so late. It took Stark, of all people, to inform them of Darcy's depression and asked that they stop being selfish and help her. 

Natasha nearly broke his nose at that statement, only Clint stopped her. It was two days later, after a late night marathon of some political drama about the president, when Darcy was sleeping with her head on Natasha's lap and feet in Clint's, that her best friend told her Stark was right. She didn't argue this time. 

She found Darcy alone, up on the roof, underneath the night sky that hid all the stars and beauties in blinding light of progress, in a place where they all went when the thoughts were too much. For Clint it was being controlled completely, where his movements were not his own and all he was left with was a window to watch as he killed indiscriminately and without a care. For Natasha, it was when the ability to choose was too much, that freedom overcame her and she was swallowed whole in light and noise. While Clint found comfort in the tight closed spaces where no one could touch him, control him, overpower him, Natasha sought open ground, empty wide space where there was no choices to be made. 

Darcy understood them both and found them when they got lost in their minds. While either could bring the other out, the beautiful search engineer could do it faster, better, and softer, often without a word. It was time for them to return the favor.

Natasha walked up and sat down without a sound next to the girl, their legs touching, but she didn't move otherwise. She reached over and stole the beer from Darcy's hand, not letting a smile cross her face. She steeled her face, willing her mouth to remain in a frownful smile, and her eyes to give nothing away. The Red Room ingrained so much in her training, the bodily responses required to be an effective tool in all physical actions. The time was not right for smiles and happiness, they would say. When was it, she wanted to ask, but would only be beaten and told that when they said so. 

They sat in the night, letting the night absorb them into its embrace. Darcy shifted slightly, laying her head down on Natasha's shoulder, but they didn't move much. Only passed the beer back and forth until it was gone, and Darcy left her holding it, brat. Natasha took in the sounds and closed her eyes, enjoying the silence. Before, silence could have been used as a punishment, the unknown in what was to come and left with ones thoughts. Now, years later, she enjoyed it because in silence, true silence of the mind, there were no choices or thoughts to worry about. She didn't have to be anything other than herself, a woman named Natasha Romanov, even if it wasn't her real name. 

“It's been a bad month,” Darcy finally said. Natasha opened her eyes and looked down at the girl on her shoulder. “A really bad month.”

She said nothing.

“I haven't talked with my doctor in a month,” Darcy continued. “And I don't the medication is working. You know, the stuff I take every morning that you complain I wake you up for. I take it like I'm suppose to, its been over a month and I feel like it isn't doing anything.”

Natasha remained silent. 

“The worst thing is that everything is going well. I keep thinking that I shouldn't feel like this, that I have no reason for it. My life is good. I have a job I love, friends who care about me.” Natasha gripped tightly to the girl's hand. “People who look out for me. It's been months since this has started and nothing has changed besides a name to it. And I don't feel sad at all. I feel like... I feel that, that I...” She drifted off and tried to snuggle in closer. Clint would have said something stupid about how Natasha didn't cuddle or snuggle. Both of them would have hit him. 

“There are days right now that,” she said, but stopped. Taking a deep breath, Darcy shook her head and Natasha felt the hair flail against her stomach, the skull attempting to burrow into her and hide. She muttered something, but Natasha heard it nonetheless: “that if it was an option, I’d think about dying.”

The first day after Pepper cornered Darcy and got her to agree to see someone, Darcy cornered the two assassins in the morning and told them everything she felt comfortable saying, which was oddly a lot. The first words were that she didn't believe in suicide, that it was a selfish act and she couldn't do that to other people, the people who care about her. Clint stepped forward and hugged her tightly, while Natasha stood back, unsure of what the appropriate response was, what she should do. Clint understood both of them, and despite his own varied and many issues, took care of them, a favor that she attempted to return at every moment. An act for an act. 

He said that the best thing she could do for Darcy was listen, and not judge, not that she ever judged any of them, except Stark, but he deserved it. So, Natasha decided that being silent and letting Darcy speak was the best thing, especially since normally she didn't the emotional thing. That was Clint's department. 

“I hate that I have hope,” Darcy said, “I hate that hope is so pervasive and controlling that it is the only thing I have that keeps me going, I hope that the next day will be better and it isn't, and I just feel worse and worse every time it happens, leaving me so lost in the idea that this weight will never go away, even with the drugs. I know they are low dosage and everything but still, they should be at least taking the edge away, but they haven't been doing anything. I take it each morning, hoping that today will be the day where I can finally breathe again and not feel like I'm alone in a group and empty by myself. You two help, I can't begin to-” she sniffed and Natasha stiffened. She disliked tears. Often they ruined makeup.

“I can't begin to describe it. You two just...” Darcy didn't continue this time, her words just hanging in the air while the silence took over for her. Natasha understood. It was the same with her, where Clint took care of her when she needed it, even just by being around. He was gone, the man who accepted her into the fold and now was gone without a word, but Clint stepped up, even with his own issues. She would take care of him while he focused on her, it was how they recovered from the situation that brought them to where they were today. After being brought in, Clint helped her adjust and learn how to actually work with other people, how to socialize in a non-sexual or murder situation. After Loki, she helped him feel in control again. It was... enjoyable. 

With Darcy, she offered them what they needed and what they wanted, whether it was control or a voice or presence. She was the best thing that happened since being brought in and finding Clint and him. 

Natasha didn't like this, and she was left with her training and the teachings of Clint Barton: social genius extraordinaire. Nothing prepared her for this. She was the physical, the body without a real concern. It was why she excelled in the Red Room, why she was so good at sex and killing people, why she was so distant and broken and lost. Clint brought her in, saved her, and taught her that her skills, while important, weren't all that she was. While the archer taught her the power of people, he taught her the power of herself and decisions. 

The problem with this decision was there was nothing to base it on. Not once, in her entire career first as an assassin for the Red Room, then as an assassin for SHIELD, had a mark been in the same, or even similar, position as Darcy. She couldn't draw on her past or large quantity of situational knowledge to solve this scenario. And Clint was away breaking in their new handler, leaving her to help Darcy.

Leaving the former whore/spy in a situation that required real emotions and empathy was not a smart choice. Natasha knew this was a fact. She had told Clint this and the man had the nerve to laugh at her. It was a growing experience for her and she needed it, if they wanted to make this work. 

Darcy snuggled in deeper and sighed. Natasha feared the tears and crying and things that often came with sad topics. So she handled it like any situation she didn't know how to handle: with her body. She leaned down and kissed the sweet, gentle, loving girl's head and pulled her in tightly, until Darcy was almost fully in her lap, her head on her shoulder. 

Natasha didn't know much about some topics, emotions and dealing with them being the first and foremost. She often complained and threatened that of the three of them, she would screw it up. But Darcy held on tightly, and just pulled her in, letting her help her in the only way she could. 

She just didn't know who was holding whom at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my wonderful betas amazon-x and misssweetsweet for the wonderful job.
> 
> Natasha will probably upset people, especially the way I've shown her. remember the power of language and what the words we use against each other, and how it makes a person feel. Then think about how they would have trained her, taught her, called her. It helps if you know what a Natasha is. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy.

**Author's Note:**

> Concept: Darcy suffers from depression, and no one really notices or if they do, they don't say anything until Tony of all people, starts the ball moving. 
> 
> Thanks to my beta on this one misssweetsweet.


End file.
